Meet Gwen Wainwright's Great-Grandfather, a Vietnam Veteran
...a man that would enlighten the world.
It wasn’t a Big Bang…it was a whisper. The universe began with a humble spark of hydrogen and helium. Material fused. Stars formed, grew, and burned. Through their fusion and explosive supernovae, more elements were thrown into space. The elements came together in infinite combinations that carried the recipe for life. Throughout the millions of galaxies that developed, one particular galaxy held more than a hundred billion stars. The spiral Milky Way was home to intelligent life on more than thirty thousand planets. Life evolved with some diversity, and yet had great similarity everywhere. In a tiny solar system on the outer arms of that galaxy, a small, watery world hosted life with a very unique and desirable attribute…the double-stranded helix of DNA.
CHAPTER ONE
“Lock and load,” Wainwright called out. The squad was in a semi-circle, hidden in the dank, soggy jungle. Out front, they watched shadows hunkered in a circle around a radio. Wainwright stifled a snicker as the Beatles hit song, “Hello Goodbye,” blared across Vietnam. The Chief pointed to something across the way, and the ranger team watched as shadows slithered from the opposite side of the dense jungle. Moving foliage was the only clue that there was someone creeping in from the brush.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Ratta-tatta-tat! The aggressors let loose a spray of bullets that peppered the quiet radio listeners.
“Now!” Wainwright yelled. Boom! Bam-bam-bam! Rapid-fire weapons and grenades shattered the quiet evening for just a few moments, before a cease-fire was called. Motioning with his hand, Wainwright peered through the smoking haze. He wiped away the sweat and rain before it could drip into his eyes, and sent the front-man out. The lanky kid covered the ground fast until he disappeared into the brush. Minutes seemed like hours, before Jeremy called his report. “It’s clear Lieutenant! We got eight of ‘em!”
Relieved, Wainwright called the scout back, and turned to the big man next to him. “Go get our radio Chief, might come in handy again.” John turned to the squad, “Everybody go get our ponchos and clothes off those dummies, or we’ll be naked tomorrow!”
Leaning back against a tree, Wainwright took a breather, relieved that his strategy had worked. Of all things, he wanted his troops to get back to their families in one piece.
Wainwright smiled at the thought, Family. Today his tiny son, Jeff, was celebrating his first week of life. I have a family now. A month before he shipped to ‘Nam, Lisa told him the happy news. By the time she was ready to deliver, he was “short”, and couldn’t get a pass to be home.
John sighed. He fantasized about the celebration that would be just for the adults – a little gathering of grandparents in a cool, dry house. They’ll have drinks…with ice. Maybe even a cake with a tiny candle for a one-week birthday. John imagined the delicious homemade strawberry cake, laced with real strawberries, and mounds of whipped cream. His mouth watered.
Dominic, their big German shepherd, would be there to guard the family and slurp up any cake that hit the floor. John envisioned his baby son cuddled in his wife’s arms, as her mother lit the small candle.
KaBoom! The distant mortar-fire snapped him back to reality. Wainwright stood, smiled away the pleasant daydream, and wiped the water from his face. “Okay Ladies – Move Out!”
From the clouds, a steamy drizzle grayed out the horizon and muddied the already soggy grass plain. Wainwright swept the wet from his face, as his team dashed from the helicopter across the air field at Soc Trang.
Raoorrr! The fearsome low growl that scared away bad guys could be heard above the rain falling on metal roofs.
“Tuffy!” Wainwright called. The huge Bengal tiger purred and rubbed against the sides of the building in his fenced pen. He leaned over the short picket rails, and snorted his readiness to play.
John missed Dominic, his German shepherd back home. Tired and wet, he took a moment to tousle the big mascot. “Tuffy – you still watchin’ the place?” The cat rolled over like a dog to get John’s attention. After a few minutes of playful mauling, Tuffy shook off, showering water, grass, and mud on the lieutenant.
“Okay, Okay – I’ll get it.” The tiger paced under his protective overhang, and waited with anticipation. John went to the camp kitchen, found a hot dog, and grabbed out a can of beef stew. He put the stew in Tuffy’s metal pot. As the cat slurped down the hot dog, John scratched the base of the tiger’s tail. After the cat finished his snack, John headed off to get dry, leaving Tuffy stretched happily in the grass.
Back in the barracks, the Chief was in story-telling mode. Joe Dakota claimed Native American heritage and ancient Aztec.
Half the squad was asleep, a few listened with a tired ear, but eighteen year old Jeremy Jones was riveted.
The Chief was sitting on his bunk. “Teotihuacán, nicknamed “Teo,” is one of Earth’s mysteries of structural design. Its advanced architecture was built in the first century.”
“The buildings aligned with the stars and solar system. The people understood math, geometry and astronomy.”
He took a drink. “It was a well-planned city with one of the largest populations in the world, like 200,000 people. It rivaled the size of ancient Rome. Every fifty-seven meters there were street intersections in a grid pattern. Since water was scarce, they had huge underground reservoirs for storing rainwater.”
Jeremy snorted, “Bet that was for secret skinny-dipping.”
“No skinny-dipping…and it would be no secret,” the Chief said. “We don’t wear much.”
Wainwright chuckled. Coming into the barracks, Joe was almost buck-naked. He said he’d just use some of nature’s water before his shower, and save time.
The Chief continued, “Teo was built by the Toltecs, and its name meant 'The City of the Gods'. The term ‘Toltec’ didn’t define a specific ethnic group; it meant ‘great wise one’.”
“And unlike the art of other primitive cultures, Toltec art had just two gods: the earth goddess and the sky god. Because Toltecs didn’t worship as many gods as most communities did in that time, it was believed that they communicated with those in the stars.”
“Martians?” Jeremy’s interest peaked. He’d heard about the two flying saucers that crash-landed in Roswell, New Mexico over twenty years ago.
“Maybe,” the Chief agreed, “Anyway, the carved art and statuary that the native peoples made weren’t monsters of imagination...but real beasts that lived on Earth.”
“Beasts?” Jeremy scowled, and threw a pillow. “Until that – I almost believed you. Your ancient fathers must’ve been smokin’ Mary Jane!”
Joe tossed the pillow back. “No, but they drank peyote.”
“What’s that?” The curious youngster asked.
“A cactus…causes visions for three days.”
Jeremy shot a look of disbelief. “No way!”
“It’s true,” Wainwright entered the conversation. He took off his boots, and set them close by. “Now, everyone get some sleep.”
“Cactus…yeah, right.” Jeremy scoffed. Pulling his M-16 close, he curled up for the night.
The Army team was at the Air Commando’s base to lend support, and rest from field operations.
The Chief pushed gear in a semi-circle near his bunk, and Wainwright flashed a knowing grin. Sometime in the night, Jeremy would “fall out of bed”. When spooked, Jeremy crawled closer to Joe. On any mission, the kid was tougher than nails. At night, he slept like a puppy, and curled next to anything alive. The Chief pushed the rucks around to give the kid a “foxhole”.
“Martians…beasts…and peyote?” Wainwright shook his head. “You tryin’ to scare the bejeezus outta him Chief?”
“No – all true.”
“Martians?”
“Maybe no Martians.”
“Beasts?”
“Yes – beasts.”
“Chief?”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“You take first watch…for beasts.” Wainwright rolled over and went to sleep.
